


Hard Times and Hard-ons

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [33]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Transmisogyny, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: Everyone's forced to deal with the aftermath of Heather Chandler's mistakes, and Heather Duke is getting the worst of it.Or, so Veronica thought.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Veronica Sawyer & Martha Dunnstock & Betty Finn & Jason Dean
Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590
Comments: 25
Kudos: 158





	Hard Times and Hard-ons

“Are you sure you don’t want one, Veronica?”

Veronica hardly lifted her head from Mara’s shoulder, just enough to peek at Martha who was holding out a plate of brownies towards her. She slumped back into the crook of Heather’s neck.

“I don’t think that’ll go very well with peppermint,” she grumbled. Veronica’s panic attack had worn off at this point, leaving her an exhausted husk. JD had been able to scrape an old mint from the bottom of one of his pockets inside his trenchcoat, which at the very least helped with the awful aftertaste of vomiting her lunch up.

Right now, though, all Veronica could do is curl up against Mara in the corner of Betty’s couch, in what felt like an unsettling silence. It probably wasn’t unsettling, but her dumb, anxious brain had convinced her otherwise.

“Is it me, or is Veronica more sad than anyone in this room?” JD suddenly spoke up. Veronica lifted her head to try and glare at him, but she could guess her eyes looked far too dull to be intimidating at all.

“JD, be nice!” Martha scolded. “She just came back from a breakup.”

“A breakup or a break? She didn’t make that part clear,” JD said.

“I’m going to say ‘break’ to make myself feel better,” Veronica grumbled.

“So… you don’t know if you and Heather broke up or not?” Betty asked.

“No.”

“What does Heather think of that?”

“How the fuck would I know?” She hid her face by burying it into the blonde air flopping over Heather’s shoulder. At least it was soft. “Knowing her, she’s going to reign even more fucking terror on everyone after what I said.”

“Hey,” Mara suddenly spoke up, picking up Veronica’s head to look at her. “You don’t know that.”

Veronica deadpanned at her. “Heather, you’re telling me that she _isn’t_ going to take her anger out on everyone in the school?”

Heather bit her lip. “Well… uh…”

“Exactly.” Veronica groaned in defeat. “Sorry to the school for having summoned the eleventh plague, but I did what had to be done.”

“Veronica, you didn’t _have_ to do that,” Martha said. Sighing, Veronica sat back up and stared at both Betty and Martha.

“You don’t need to act like you’re not happy about it.”

Martha and Betty frowned.

“We’re not. You’re very clearly upset,” Betty said.

“That’s not what I mean,” Veronica said. “How about I address the dark cloud that’s been looming over us all, but no one wanted to say anything because they don’t want to offend me.”

“I don’t think you’re in a very good position to be offended, Ronnie,” Betty said, eyeing her current state. Veronica shrugged.

“I’m already as sad as I can be, can’t get much worse than this.” She straightened herself up, her bones clicking, as if she were preparing to be hit with a harsh storm. “I ‘broke up’-” she used quotations, “-with Heather for a reason. How about you guys just lay it on me with your _actual_ thoughts about my relationship choices, huh?”

Her three friends all exchanged nervous glances with one another, until Martha spoke up.

“So, um… if we do… Heather, none of what anyone says applies to you.”

Heather gave a half-hearted smile. “Well, thanks, but it’s fine if it does.”

“But you’re the nice one,” Betty said. “We’ve all moved past anything you’ve done to us.”

“I’m… glad?”

Veronica sighed. “Who’s going first, then?”

A short pause, before Betty spoke up.

“I’ll go first.” She leaned forward a little to hold eye contact with Veronica, which felt unnecessary with how much her words were going to hurt anyway, but whatever. “I’ve… never understood what you saw in them. I know I did indulge you with your crushes and such, but if I’m to be completely honest, I never considered the possibility of anything actually coming of it. I just thought it was exciting.” She scratched the back of her head. “And even if anything _did…_ I never expected it to work out.”

Ouch.

“Anything else?” she grumbled, resting her head on her hand, slouching forward to do so.

“Um… you want me to beat around the bush or be blunt?”

“Be blunt.”

“I think it was a dick move to date someone who’s harassed and bullied your best friend.”

_Ouch._

Wincing, Veronica forced herself to nod in acceptance. “Mhmm. Fair.” She glanced at Martha and JD. “Who’s next?”

“I can go next,” JD said. “Look, I’m actually a lot more neutral to the whole thing than I appear. I do agree with everything Betty said and all, and I don’t understand what the hell you see in them - except for you, you’re good,” he pointed at Heather, “but I figured policing who you date would also be a dick move, so I never did. Instead, I took the approach of, you can treat them how you want to treat them, but so can I.” He shrugged, “Maybe they treat you well, and you want to do the same in return. But if they treat us like shit, of course we’re gonna have negative opinions on them.”

“I did not expect that from you,” Betty said.

“Why not?” JD asked.

“Back at Atkinson’s, you always ranted to me about how all the popular girls and all the school bullies were the same in every school, and how heartless they all are and how bullshit the school hierarchy is.” She looked at him skeptically. “Now you’re treating things with more nuance than I ever would.”

“Well, thanks to Veronica, I’ve been in close proximity to the popular kids for once, and now I actually get to see the layers underneath the bitch fest they always show off.” He then leaned over to the coffee table to grab a brownie. “That doesn’t mean I _like_ them. I just acknowledge they’re similar to us, in that they have a lot of issues to deal with, they just happen to go about dealing with it in all the wrong ways.”

Veronica blinked at him. “Thanks for that… weirdly poetic response. But also, what the _hell_ would you know about what goes on behind the curtains with these three?” She pointed to Mara.

“Out of respect for the one I have in mind, I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

“I actually know what you’re referring to, so no need to hide it from me,” Mara mentioned. When Veronica gave her an odd look, she just muttered, “Don’t worry about it.”

“...Okay.” She finally turned to the girl next to her. “Martha? You have anything to say?”

Martha’s eyes dropped to her thighs, where her hands fidgeted nervously. Veronica sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You can be as mean as you want. I can take it.” Veronica wasn’t entirely sure if she believed what she was saying. She _did_ want to hear what Martha wanted to say, but knowing that it was likely something she’d held in for months, and not being used to being berated by _Martha_ out of all people, she wasn’t sure if she’d _ever_ be ready to hear it.

But ignoring the fact that advice from Heather Chandler ringing in her ear helped her push through it, her sweet voice telling her to not put it off, she listened in anyway.

“Well… I’ve always wanted to support you, Veronica, I really have,” Martha began gingerly. “But that never really stopped feeling like I’d been betrayed at best, and disregarded at worst.”

Fucking _ouch._

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Martha finally looked back up at her with glassy eyes.

“No, no, it’s okay, I just… it’s hard, you know? Trying to understand what you could possibly love about people who have hurt me.” Her head drooped. “I know you’re not stupid. I know you wouldn’t have just _not realised_ that would have hurt. I always assumed you just… pushed it aside. But I think… I think I would have preferred the former.”

Veronica bit her lip, trying to stop it from quivering. Of-fucking-course that felt like a knife to the chest.

“You’re right,” she confessed. “I did do that.”

She felt Mara’s hand land on her’s, which gave her a little more courage to speak.

“I know now that was wrong. This whole mess made me realise that. It was wrong of me to disregard all of you and how you’ve been treated and how you _feel_ for the sake of my own comfort.” She gazed at them all sorrowfully. “Everything I did made everyone uncomfortable, and I never wanted to acknowledge it. I grew tunnel vision - very willingly - towards Heather, and I never stopped to look around to what I was doing.” She sniffed, swallowing her urge to cry out more of her feelings. “It’s why I’m… taking a break from her. I can’t stay with her in good faith anymore, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realise any of this sooner.”

She stared at her feet, waiting for them to confess more feelings, for them to sting even more. Instead, she heard Betty say,

“We never asked you about your feelings.”

“What?”

“What do you see in them, Veronica?” Betty said. “I mean that genuinely. You clearly love all of them. What exactly is it?”

Veronica blinked at her in surprise. “Which one do I start with…?”

“Heather Chandler, because with McNamara and Duke, I can sort of see why.”

“ _Sort_ of?” Mara quipped.

“Okay, with you I _can._ You are legitimately sweet.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

Veronica snorted in amusement, before her thoughts trailed back to Chandler. It hurt to think about her, but she still wanted to answer the question.

“They’re all things you never see,” Veronica said. “But I love seeing her softer moments, when she lets her guard down, she becomes so sweet and caring.” She huffed what was meant to be laughter. “And as soon as you point it out, she gets all defensive and flustered, it’s honestly adorable.” She bit her lip. “Then she may tell me something I would have never guessed about her. Like the other night… I never would have guessed she liked insects as a kid.”

Mara gasped. “She actually _told_ you about that?”

“Yeah. Her favourite insect’s a millipede, right?”

“Yeah!”

Veronica giggled. “I’m gonna assume you were there for all her insect explorations.”

“I was,” she said with a wistful smile. “I’d always help her gather as many insects as I could, or lift up the right rocks that would have the most worms underneath.”

The thought was adorable, and Veronica couldn’t help but wish that she’d known Heather when she was a kid so she could see what she was like first-hand. But then the more she thought about Heather…

“Oh no, I miss her, I shouldn’t be talking about this.” She fanned her eyes that grew more and more tearful. “Quick, remind me of all the bad things she’s done.”

“Never apologised for what she did to me at the party,” Martha quickly said.

“Has put JD and I up as a huge target for the school’s ridicule.”

“Okay. Yeah. Bad person.” She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, then swallowed her now-flavourless gum. Mara stared at her.

“Veronica! Why did you swallow that?”

“...Because I cannot be bothered getting up to spit it into a trashcan.”

“That’s gonna stay inside you for seven years, now!”

Veronica blinked. “Mara, that’s not…”

“That’s a myth,” Betty told her.

“Yeah, it doesn’t actually stay there,” Veronica said.

“It’s okay, I believed it for a while too!” Martha said.

Heather’s eyes widened. “ _What?_ ” She cradled her head. “That’s a _myth?_ ”

“Yeah,” Veronica said as she reached for a brownie. Sure, she had a vague minty taste still in her mouth, but now her body had finally decided to relax, she realised just how fucking hungry she was.

“I feel lied to,” Mara said, frowning. Veronica laughed, breaking her brownie in half and holding it up to her mouth.

“Now you know,” she said, smiling as she watched her girlfriend take a bite.

“Do you feel better, Ronnie?” Martha asked. Veronica looked back at her and gave a smile.

“Oddly enough… yeah.” She wiped away any stray tears that had been clinging onto her lashes, waiting for her to cry again. “I mean, I still feel sad about the whole thing, but that’s to be expected.”

“That’s good!” Martha said with a grin. Veronica nodded, before looking up at Betty.

“What about you guys?” she asked. “How… how are you feeling?”

A smile slowly crawled onto Betty’s face.

“I… I’m scared, and I don’t know how ready I am to face school again, but… I feel a lot better.” She stood up and walked around to Veronica, and before she could ask why, Veronica found herself being embraced in a hug.

“I was only ever mad at you out of fear that you didn’t care about us, but I know that isn’t true now.” She leaned back to gaze at her tearfully. “You just see the good in everyone, Veronica. It never came from a place of malice. And…” She bit her lip. “Thank you for… um… doing what you did. I know it mustn’t have been easy, and I’m sorry that it wasn’t, but it shows just how much you care, and I appreciate that.”

Veronica sighed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you feel better.” She took hold of her hand. “And… I don’t know how much help it’ll be, but I’ll be by your side from now on. If anyone in the school bothers you, or JD, I can at least _try_ and use my status to help, right?”

“So can I,” Heather suddenly added. “Because, no offense, Veronica, but your status is a lot less stable than mine.”

“Completely fair,” she grunted. “But Heather, are you sure about this? You’re Heather’s girlfriend too, and I don’t want to just… steal you away.”

Mara gazed at her sadly. “Don’t worry about me, Veronica. I have a few things to think about, anyway.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Some other time.” Her smile returned. “I’d rather stay strong for you right now.”

Veronica smiled at her. “I love you, but you don’t need to do that.”

“Too bad.”

“Ew, now they’re just getting _sappy,_ ” Betty groaned, pulling away from Veronica. “Is this what we have to deal with if she hangs out with us?”

“Yes,” Veronica said.

“I’ll allow it, just don’t get too explicit in front of Martha. She’s too innocent for that.” She sat back down next to Martha and covered her eyes, while Martha just sighed.

“Betty, they can be as affectionate as they want, especially since they can’t do it in public.” She pushed her hands away. “Also, Heather, does this mean you’ll be sitting with us at lunch?”

Mara blinked, a little taken aback. “I… didn’t think that far ahead, but you make a good point. I can’t exactly sit with Heather right now, I have some things to reconsider.”

“Oh! New addition to the friend group!” Martha exclaimed, tugging at Veronica’s sleeve. “We need to properly welcome her.”

“I- yeah, sure, how do we-”

Martha stared at her with sparkly eyes.

“...Oh.” She turned back to Mara. “You ever watched The Princess Bride?”

Heather shook her head, and that was enough for Martha to hurry upstairs to go and find the tape. Before any of them knew it, the movie was playing, with Veronica huddled up against Mara, holding her as close as she could. While she heard her giggle and give positive comments during the film, she knew very well that the two of them were up for a hard time ahead. She could feel Heather’s fingers drumming continuously on her side, along with her leg occasionally beginning to bounce. She didn’t need to ask her what was wrong to know what she was probably thinking.

Seeing Heather tomorrow and onwards was going to be rough, and they both knew it. How the hell were they meant to face her now, even if it was just from a distance?

* * *

“She got suspended.”

Veronica’s jaw dropped. “She _what?_ ”

“What happened?” Mara asked.

Duke sighed. “She um… she clogged Ms Fleming in the face.” She tapped the bridge of her nose. “Rumour has it she has a broken bone because of it.”

Veronica wasn’t entirely sure how to process this information. On one hand, she was supposed to be really mad at Heather and _not_ think about her in a positive light.

On the other hand, holy shit, Heather, good for you.

“Did you see it happen?” Mara asked.

“No, word just spread around quickly. Almost as quickly as-”

“Hey, Heather!” A voice walking by them interrupted their conversation. “You have any clothing lines you can recommend for my little brother? Since you’re such an expert at that type of thing.”

Veronica whipped her head around to lock eyes with Courtney, who smirked as she walked past the trio, like she was oh-so-proud of herself.

“Do you want another beating, Courtney?” Veronica spat. “Because I can give you one.”

“You don’t have the guts, Sawy- _fuck!_ ”

Before she could complete her sentence, Courtney fell over face-first onto the floor, having tripped right over a foot that Mara had held out in front of her. At some point, at _very_ quick speed, she must have hurried slightly ahead of Courtney and waited for her to cross her path, and now she stood over her and cackled. It was sort of strange to see _Mara_ leading such a charge - usually she was one to laugh at another’s antics, and she never really _cackled,_ but Veronica had to admit it was oddly satisfying.

“Whoops,” Mara said innocently, staring down at the girl on the floor. Veronica could see her trying to subtly gather some papers that had slipped out of her binder.

“Fuck you,” Courtney grumbled, though it wasn’t all that intimidating when she was an obstacle for other students to avoid in the hallway. Happy with her dirty work, Mara moved back over to Veronica and Duke, leaving Courtney to struggle to get back on her feet, while students passing by stared at her doing so. She gave one last bitter look to them all, before leaving without another word. Veronica finally turned back to Duke, who was just staring at the floor, bemused.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Duke let out an unsure chuckle.

“I’m _fine,_ ” she said. “It’s been, what, half a day, and I’m already used to this shit?” She let out a very pained laugh. “That must be a record, right?”

Veronica frowned solemnly. “Heather…”

“No, it’s fine, really,” she muttered bitterly. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less. I signed myself up for this.”

“Heather, no you didn’t,” Veronica told her sternly. “Heather shouldn’t have-”

“This isn’t Heather’s fault!” Duke snapped, before taking a deep breath. “I didn’t mean- I know what she did was _wrong,_ I’m just saying she wasn’t the one who outed me, _I_ was.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to!”

“I _didn’t_ have to. It was my decision. A dumb decision, but mine, nonetheless.”

Veronica grew quiet, failing to think up an argument. Instead, she decided to move the topic along.

“Heather and I are gonna sit with Betty, Martha and JD for lunch,” she said. “Don’t suppose you’d wanna join us…?”

Duke shifted uncomfortably. “Um… sorry, I have yearbook things to get on with,” she muttered. “Thanks for the offer though.”

Mara stepped forward. “Are you sure? They wouldn’t mind having you around.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pulled her bag strap further up her shoulder. “I should really go meet up with Dennis. I said I’d be there for-” she glanced at her swatch, “-five minutes ago.”

Without another word, Duke walked away, staring at the floor as she did so. It was heartbreaking, in a way. Usually she liked to stand as tall as she could, gazing at everyone smugly as she walked past, like she was expecting everyone else to be jealous of her position on top.

Now she looked incredibly ashamed, like she wouldn’t wish her position on the most hated person.

“Should we go after her?” Mara asked, also looking incredibly worried. Veronica sighed dolefully.

“I think she wants to be alone for now,” she said. “We can see her after school, maybe?”

Looking dejected, Mara eventually nodded, before following Veronica to the cafeteria, clinging to her arm in that same way she always did with Chandler. Veronica let her - she imagined she needed it even more than she did; it wasn’t like she got no stares for sitting down at the most unlikely lunch table in the room, after all.

It had been half a day, and already everything had seemed to shift. The Heathers’ lunch table was empty for the first time in literal _years,_ and she, along with the rest of the school, clearly had no idea how to cope. With how crowded the cafeteria got, Veronica fully expected their lunch table to be taken over, but it was as though it was surrounded by barbed wire. It was left untouched throughout the whole period, almost as if people _wanted_ the Heathers to return to their rightful throne. No matter how much they loved or hated their reign… no one knew how to handle this newfound anarchy.

It was like leaving the table empty was some sort of attempt to restore the old order, and Veronica could hardly blame them. As much as she liked sitting with her friends again, especially with one of her girlfriends by her side, it was… incredibly unsettling. People kept looking in her and Heather’s way, sometimes in confusion, sometimes with disgust. Sitting here made her feel out of place, and she yearned to return to her old spot, next to Chandler.

And God, she felt like a fucking idiot for it. It was just a stupid lunch table that clearly needed some sort of repaint one of these days. It shouldn’t have held so much power over her, or anyone. Everything in high school was fake - the hierarchy, the power, the food chain, _all of it._ And in just a few months, after graduation, when she’d be preparing to move to whatever college, none of it would matter.

So why did she care so much about it?

* * *

Heather kept her word. She didn’t go to the pep rally. Originally for spiteful reasons towards Ms Fleming and her stupid ideas to raise awareness for a very sensitive cause all to make herself feel good about herself, however now it had the added reasons of _I cannot face anyone in the school for longer than I have to._

Granted, it meant facing her family instead, because she knew full well she was far too much of a sad sack of shit to hang out with Veronica, Heather, or Heather in order to avoid them. But how could she not be, when for two days straight, all she’d heard was,

_“Wait, so do you have a dick or no?”_

_“Should you really be in these bathrooms?”_

_“How real are your tits?”_

_“Thank God I never had sex with you. I wouldn’t wanna be a faggot.”_

Yeah, well, that didn’t change the fact that you were attracted to me, did it, Chad or whatever your name is?

Whenever she wasn’t hearing insults and derogatory terms thrown her way, she’d instead get stared at relentlessly. Not all of them were even malicious, though most of them were. Some of them seemed genuinely curious or confused, as if she had the most noticeable zit on her face ever.

So of course she didn’t go to the pep rally, of course she couldn’t keep up a good attitude for Veronica and Heather, of course she had come straight home to hide from all of her troubles, because wouldn’t you do the same?

_Knock knock knock._

Groaning, Heather forced herself to pull the covers off her head and sit up in her bed. She knew she likely looked like a mess - she hadn’t even changed out of her clothes. Her blazer had been dumped on the floor, while the rest of her outfit remained on. She’d usually be opposed to such behaviour, but she was far too sad to listen to her dumb obsessions.

“What?” she said, staring at the door. In reality she hoped it wouldn’t open - she didn’t want to face anyone right now.

“Heather, the school just called us. Let us in.”

Heather silently prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her up. “The door’s open.”

Both her parents stepped into her room, a threatening aura around them. Heather shrank into her shoulders.

“They say you’re at risk for harassment,” her mother began. “What happened?”

She picked up her pillow and hugged it. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“They told us what happened already, Heather, we want to hear it from you,” her father said in a stern tone. She let out a long-winded sigh.

“Look, my friend was struggling with a speech and so I took over. I just so happened to let something slip to the school as I did so.”

“And what was that?”

“You already know.”

“They didn’t tell us that part,” her mother said. “What did you tell them, Heather?”

Heather averted her gaze.

“I told them I was trans.”

Two disappointed, exasperated sighs said it all.

“Heather…” her mother groaned.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” her father snapped. “No wonder the school is calling us saying you’re at risk of harassment.”

“My friend was having a hard time. What was I meant to do, let her be embarrassed on camera?”

“You did it on the _TV?_ ” her mother shrieked, making her flinch. “That’s idiotic!”

“Could you lay off?” Duke hissed, hugging her pillow close, like it would soothe the glares that continued to burn into her. “I know it was stupid, but it’s all I could think to do in the moment!”

“Rather than not say a thing?” her mother berated. “You did not think that was an option?”

“No,” she muttered. “I would have been complacent, just like I _always_ have.”

“That’s the better option, Heather,” her father growled. “Here we are telling you how to _protect_ yourself, and you ignore us, just like you always do.” Though his words stung, Heather was happy to watch him turn around to stalk back towards her door, at last. “When people start picking on you, don’t come to us for help.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she grumbled, glowering dangerously at the two of them until they were out of her sight. As soon as they were gone (without having shut the door behind them) she pressed her face further into her pillow and let out a long-winded groan. At least she could get some peace for a bit.

Or, so she thought.

“Wow, I haven’t seen them that mad in _ages,_ ” Hunter’s shrill little voice grated her ear drums. She snapped her head up at him and snarled.

“Go away.”

“So are you gonna be on TV?” Hunter asked. “Is everyone gonna know you were a boy?”

“Don’t word it like that,” she grumbled. Hunter frowned.

“But it’s true.”

“I was _assigned_ as a boy at birth, Hunter. That doesn’t mean I _was_ one.”

“But-”

“Not that you can get that explanation through your thick skull. I’ve told you more times than I can count.” She flipped over onto her side, away from Hunter. “Now get out of my room. I need some time alone.”

Hunter went quiet for a moment, but she knew he didn’t leave with how there were no footsteps to be heard. After a while, she groaned loudly and sat up again to glare at him.

“What the hell do you want?”

Hunter shrugged. “I dunno. I wanted to know what was happening.”

“You’re not entitled to know.”

“But I’m your brother!”

“You’re annoying and an asshole,” she spat. “Perhaps I’d tell you if you didn’t try to suck up to Hayden and his shitty influence so much.”

Hunter frowned at her. “I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do _not!_ ”

“Shut up!” She threw her pillow at him, feeling some sense of satisfaction when it hit him right in his face. “Look, why are you bothering me? Can’t you see I’ve had a rough week?”

“Yeah.”

“So are you just trying to make it even worse?”

“You’re no fun when you sulk,” he whined. “You become a real bummer.”

“I have a good reason to sulk, Hunter,” she retorted. “And if you think you being here is gonna stop that, then you’re terribly mistaken. Now get out of my room.”

Hunter folded his arms and pouted childishly. “Ugh, if you’re _that_ torn up over school, why don’t you just tell them off like you always do with me?”

“Because it’s not as easy as that. You’re one, albeit incredibly annoying, person. You’re not an entire school where your name is known everywhere.”

“Why not? You act like you’re the boss of me _and_ the boss of them. What’s the difference?”

“The _difference_ is-” she paused. She was _going_ to say that the big difference is how much power the school has compared to you, you limp stack of bones, but when really truly thinking about it… she realised that that wasn’t _entirely_ true. Sure, the school did have more power than Hunter - _a lot_ more - but Heather _also_ had a lot of power.

Had it been shaken? Sure, but it still existed. She may have kept her head down whenever she walked through the hallways, but it wasn’t like any nerd or geek had _dared_ to throw an insult her way. Her status was cracked and crumbling… but it was still there.

“Hunter?”

“What?”

“You’re a genius.”

He stared at her in confusion - clearly it had been just as jarring for him to _hear_ her say that as it had been to say it, but she had little time to dwell on it. Instead, she flew off of her bed, her sulkfest forgotten, and darted over to her wardrobe.

“What was I thinking? Sitting here crying over it isn’t going to fix anything!” She quickly flicked through her clothes, her hangers clattering loudly as one slammed into the other. “You’re right, Hunter. If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting.” She slipped her green blazer off, letting it pool around her feet, before replacing it with a bright red cardigan. It was small - she had owned it for years, and it was likely no longer her size, but hey, she hadn’t exactly grown all that much. At least, not height-wise.

“Hmm.” She gazed in the mirror for a moment. “No… not bold enough.” She went back to look in her wardrobe, and while a few items of clothing piqued her interest… none of it was _enough_.

“Uhh… should I go?” Hunter suddenly spoke up from behind her. Oh, he was still here? “Are you getting changed, or…”

“Yes,” she replied. “I would much prefer that.”

And so he did, thankfully closing the door behind him.

“Hmm…” she thoughtfully hummed as she tried different colour combos, different outfits she never would have worn… but none of it was what she was looking for.

_Looks like I’m going shopping._

* * *

“Did you get through to her at all?” Veronica asked.

Mara shook her head sadly. “She won’t talk to me for more than a few minutes. She’s just completely closed off.”

“I mean, you can hardly blame her,” Betty grumbled. “As much as I’m happy that so far, I haven’t been getting as much shit as I’ve expected-”

“Knock on wood for that. You’ll tempt fate,” Veronica told her. Betty rolled her eyes, though decided to humour her and knock on the wood of her bench anyway.

“As I was saying… I think the reason students have been so uninterested in bothering people like us is because they’re so giddy about one of their own tyrants outing herself as the very thing they vowed to destroy.” Her head slumped into her hands. “I wanted the Heathers to fall, but not like this.”

“Is she really getting it bad?” Martha asked with a worrisome look. Veronica slowly nodded.

“It’s hard to hold a conversation with her without someone calling her a slur from down the hallway.” Her lip curled in disgust. “Then they treat it like they just invented comedy.”

“Yeah, if you’re gonna be a bigot, at least be creative,” JD muttered. “Make my oppression interesting so I get a chance to laugh right before I’m hate-crimed.”

“Okay, I don’t know about _that,_ ” Betty said.

“I’d rather it didn’t happen at all,” Veronica muttered, before glancing at her swatch, and then at the now-crowded cafeteria. “Ugh. I’ll be back. Need to do lunchtime poll, what with Heather’s suspension and all.”

“If you’re so mad at her, why are you doing her job?” Betty asked. Not maliciously - just genuine curiosity. Veronica picked up the red clipboard and shrugged.

“Someone has to do it,” she murmured, before stepping over the bench and plodding off to the first table. She wasn’t going to go around to as many tables as usual - she simply couldn’t bring herself to - just get the job done quickly and dump it in front of Peter.

“Hey, don’t suppose any of you want to participate in the lunchtime poll this week?” She started off easy, and paid the geek table a visit. She hated to admit it, but Chandler had always been right about them being useful for doing any sort of bidding that needed to be done, and as this one wasn’t in any way evil, she was willing to take advantage of it. As expected, they all agreed eagerly, likely just to get a chance to talk to - as weird as it was to say about herself - one of the hottest girls in the school, clearly not caring about any of her associates.

“Hey, uh, since you seem to be sitting with nerds now,” one of them spoke up sheepishly after having given her answer for her to write, “would you… ever consider sitting here?”

“Yeah! We can make room,” another said. “We could do your homework for you?”

“I don’t need you to do my homework. I’m already intelligent.” Okay, weird boast, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with boys drooling over her right now. “Thanks for your answers. Bye."

She moved onto the next table, got through it, then went to move onto the third. Just before she opened her mouth to speak, though, something caught her attention.

“Hey, Heather! Is that even your real name?' A cackle. Oh no. 'Hey, no, no, don't you go anywhere. Hey, I bet you won't be kissing any guys now that they all know you're just tricking them. Aw, dare you to kiss me. Go on, go ahead and try and trick me, why don't you-"

Veronica turned to where the voice had come from - towards the cafeteria door. What she saw _stunned_ her - Heather Duke, dressed in a white coat and the white necklace Mara had gifted to her for her birthday, pale blue skirt and black shirt and tights, with a bright red belt around her waist to really stand out, gripping the collar of some guy’s shirt to pull him down to her height so she could shove her tongue into his mouth, with the added gesture of hooking her leg around his waist. The incredibly sloppy, incredibly sexual makeout session lasted only a few seconds, before Heather was pushed away while the guy stumbled back in dismay, wiping his mouth with what looked like disgust. Veronica easily guessed he’d been the guy who had made the comment.

“Oh, tricked, you say?” Duke cooed with a sweet tone, batting her lashes at him. “Then what do you call that?”

She pointed downwards, and when his eyes followed, his face morph into a mixture of dismay and embarrassment. Meanwhile, everyone else who had looked to the same area started to laugh.

“Looks like I am a girl after all, huh?” she said calmly, with the most smug grin that Veronica had ever seen. “That is, unless you have something to share with the school?” She gestured for him to speak, which only made the students laugh harder. Veronica, too, cracked a chuckle when she saw the very obvious bulge that had appeared in the guy’s pants.

“No! No, I’m not- I’m not gay!” he stammered, covering his crotch desperately. “You’re just- it’s not me, it’s-”

“I’m tricking you?” Heather asked with a melodramatic gasp. “But you seem to have a good idea of what’s under _my_ skirt, but that hasn’t stopped you from getting a hard-on, now, has it?” A sly grin slithered onto her face. “Argue that just because I look like a girl doesn’t mean I am one all you want, because doing that means living with the knowledge that a dude just turned you on. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll keep it a secret. Oh, wait.” She clicked her tongue as she looked around the many, many eyes that had fallen on them both, curious about the commotion. “Guess the cat’s out the bag. Or, dick’s out the pants, I should say.”

“No! I’m not- I’m not gay! You _are_ a girl, I was just-”

“I am a girl? Lovely. Now fuck off.”

She waved him goodbye and clearly took great pleasure in him scurrying off in shame, likely running to the bathroom to sort out his… _problem._ The laughter died down, but didn’t completely stop, even after the crowd got out of Heather’s way and returned to their own tables, and Veronica had never been so relieved to hear laughter in one of the Heather’s favour. She stood still, watching as her view of Heather became more clear, seeing her swipe her thumb just under her lip to wipe away any stray lipstick until no one else stood between them. They locked eyes, holding one another’s gazes for a good long moment, before Heather made the first step towards her. Veronica took the second, and they met in the middle.

“Hey,” Veronica said timidly.

“Hey,” Heather replied, tucking some hair behind her ear. Something else to notice about her modified appearance was her current lack of scrunchie, in favour of more wild, curly hair.

“Is that a new outfit?” Veronica asked. Heather nodded.

“Everything but the tights,” she said. “Does it look okay?”

“Oh, it- it looks great!” Veronica stuttered. “Hot, even. Did I say that? I mean, it looks nice on you.”

She felt heat rush to her face as Heather laughed. It had only been a few days, but Veronica had _really_ missed her smiling.

“Glad you like it, but I’m still playing around with my fashion sense, currently. But this’ll do for now.” She then glanced at the clipboard in Veronica’s hands. “Oh, you’re doing lunchtime poll? Well, guess coming here was pointless then. See you later?”

“Wait!” Veronica stepped forward and grabbed her hand as she began to turn around. “Can we- we need to talk.”

“I have nothing better to do.”

Veronica pulled her aside in the cafeteria, in that same spot she and Chandler had stood so Veronica could get a lovely little pep talk on how to deal with her crush on the girl whose hand she currently held. She noticed a lot more people looking in their direction than last time - likely due to the school’s obsession with Duke’s secret being exposed, but at least everyone was out of earshot.

“Okay, not that I’m not super happy to see you’re doing better, but also, are you doing better?” Veronica asked. “Heather and I have been trying to get through to you for days, but you haven’t picked up your phone.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I needed some time alone so I could cry all my tears out until I had none left,” Duke explained. “Honestly, crying about things is _so_ tedious. All it gives you is headaches. I figured using one weekend to let it all out would help me get the fuck over it.”

“ _Are_ you over it though?” Veronica asked. “Heather… the whole school has it out for you.”

Duke shrugged. “Sure, I’m upset about that, but what use is walking around and sulking about people throwing things at me and calling me a transvestite? Certainly not productive in any way.” She straightened out some of the clothing that had gotten creased from her… antics from before. Veronica shot her a doubtful look.

“Heather, you shouldn’t _have_ to feel like you need to push through all of this shit,” she said. “As amusing and… I’ll be honest, _kind of_ hot that thing you just pulled with that guy-”

“I certainly pulled him alright.”

Veronica bit back a laugh, keeping a serious expression. “-I know very well you _did not_ enjoy that, and you shouldn’t have to put yourself in that position just to keep people off your back.” Her gaze softened. “It’s not fair on you.”

“I didn’t enjoy the sensation, no, but not gonna lie, the power was kind of thrilling.” She snickered. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I finally understand why Heather likes having boys wrapped around her finger.”

Veronica winced in hearing the name, which Duke noticed.

“Sorry. I forget you two aren’t talking, when I am. It’s weird.”

“Wait, what?” Veronica’s head snapped towards her. “You’re _still_ talking to her?”

“Well, I _say_ that, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet,” Duke said with a shrug. “But yeah. I hope that’s okay.”

“I- _why?_ She’s the reason for all of this mess! Out of _everyone,_ _you_ were the one who got hurt the most!”

“Do I look hurt to you?”

Veronica paused, taking in Heather. The last time she saw her, she’d been a shallow husk of herself, taking whatever abuse was thrown away reluctantly, yet with little fight left within her. It had been so unlike her - everything she’d come to admire about her had disappeared, snatched away by the hands of the unjust jury known as the student body of Westerburg.

Now, though, she’d done a full 180. Her fierce image had returned, only now it was amplified by the bold belt enclosed around her waist, which stood out against her pale clothes. Her heels allowed her to stand taller than usual, her chin was raised and, yes, she did indeed look incredibly beautiful. Veronica was _more_ than impressed - in a span of a few days, she’d been able to pick herself back onto her feet, but instead of walking again, now she was running far ahead of anyone.

“No,” Veronica said. “No, you don’t.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t blame Heather for what happened to me,” Heather said. “I think she is to blame for putting your friends at risk and whatnot, and I understand fully why you’re mad at her. But I’m putting myself in this position. Sure, I shouldn’t _need_ to give a guy a boner so he’ll quit harassing me, but I’m _willing_ to do that. No one but a bigoted society is to blame for any torment I go through. All I did was say I was assigned male at birth - the school’s reaction to that is their own fault.”

Veronica slowly nodded, but something still didn’t sit right with her.

“Heather?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you do it?”

Heather paused for a moment, pursing her dark pink lips. Veronica sighed.

“Did you do it to protect Heather?” she murmured. “Because I don’t think you should get it through her head that’s someone will always step in and-”

“Partly.”

“Partly?”

“I… knew I could handle being on the receiving end of some transphobic students a lot better than your friends could,” she muttered. “With me, I risked becoming a nobody. With them, they risked becoming _far_ less than a nobody.”

Veronica widened her eyes in surprise.

“You did it for…” She looked back at her friends’ table, all the way across the cafeteria. “For them?”

“If I didn’t, they’d be stuffed and mounted on the walls for everyone to see, wouldn’t they? I… I didn’t want to be complacent in that.” She twiddled her thumbs. “I’ve… been thinking about what you told me the other week. In the woods? I guess I don’t want to be a coward anymore and actually try using my power for good, for once in my damn life.” Heather said. “At least, I hope they’re not taking a hit too hard, or I’d feel like this was all for nothing.”

“No, no… they haven’t been that much of a target,” Veronica said, a little amazed by the revelation. “Everyone’s been far too focused on the gossip with you.”

“Good.” She gingerly tucked some hair behind her ear. “Um… glad they’re doing okay. Now, next thing to do, I wonder if they’re…” She searched around the cafeteria real quick, before her eyes lit up. “Ah, there we go.” Suddenly, Heather was walking off towards a table, one that Veronica had in fact already visited. She followed close behind and watched as Heather stopped just in front of the geek’s table, taking them all by surprise.

“Hey, are you lot done with Heather’s class work yet?” she asked, her gaze raking the whole table. Despite the shaken reputation, her dangerous green gaze was still enough to strike fear in students far below her.

“Um, no… not yet,” one of them sheepishly replied. “We’re over halfway done, though!”

“Good. One of you better be by my locker by 4pm sharp, you got it?”

The geek that had spoken thickly swallowed and nodded. Heather gave them a satisfied smile, before turning away, walking past Veronica, who murmured,

“Why are you doing these things for her?”

Heather stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable, up until she shrugged.

“I want her to pass high school.” She then grabbed the clipboard in Veronica’s hand. “Have you finished with that?”

“I’ve done two tables, that’s it.”

“Good enough, Heather used to only do one. I’ll take that to Peter for you. Do you or Heather need a ride after school, by the way?”

“Oh, uh, we were gonna take the bus, but sure, if you want to-”

“Cool, meet me in the parking lot later.”

With that, Heather took the clipboard from her and walked off, before Veronica could get another word in. Still a little baffled by the whiplash of Duke’s change in mood, Veronica made her way back to her table, where she was met with four very curious pairs of eyes.

“What was _that?_ ” Betty asked. Veronica breathed out slowly.

“I don’t know, but I’m very attracted to whatever _that_ was.”

* * *

“ _Heather._ ”

No response. Muttering to herself, Heather tossed a third stone at her window, and waited. After half a minute went by with no sort of reply, she began to look around for yet another object to throw at her window, that is, until she finally saw movement.

“Go away.”

The curtains opened slightly, but not enough for Heather to see anyone on the other side. She only saw the window open just enough for her to hear a voice.

“Heatherrrrr,” she sang sweetly. “I have your homeworrrrrk.”

The window shut. Okay, fair enough. Homework was not a good thing to receive in these trying times.

“I never said you had to do it!” she tried correcting herself. “It’s already been done for you.”

The window opened again, this time wider, and Heather Chandler finally poked her head out. She squinted at the light, even though there was very little light at 6pm in February, as if she hadn’t been outside in five days and had depended on her dimly lit room to see. Probably because that’s exactly what had happened.

“What are you doing here, Heather?” she grumbled, glaring down at her.

“Waiting for you to let me in, that’s what,” Duke retorted. “I’ve been waiting here ten minutes.”

“I’m grounded, Heather. I can’t let you in.”

“When the hell has being grounded ever stopped you?” Duke scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”

“Just leave me alone.”

She disappeared back inside and the window shut again. Arching a brow, Duke stood there, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, counting the one, two, three, four, five, six seconds before the window opened again.

“Is that a new outfit?”

Duke grinned up at her. “Let me in and I’ll answer thee these questions three.”

Chandler rolled her eyes, before telling her to meet her at the front door. Duke walked back around the house and stood patiently, waiting for her to make her way through the house. When the door finally opened, she was greeted with what she could only describe as an incredibly deflated Heather Chandler. Her hair was a tangled mess - it almost looked like a ragged bush - her eyes had bags hanging from them, her clothes consisted of an untied robe and a creased undershirt…

“You look like shit.”

“I look how I feel.” Chandler grabbed Duke’s hand and pulled her inside, slamming the door and yanking her upstairs. As soon as Duke stepped into her room, she was hit with the foul stench of cigarettes with a vague tinge of vodka.

“Are you trying to suffocate yourself?” Duke choked out, coughing as she pulled out perfume from her bag to begin spraying it all around the room.

“I don’t know anymore.” She watched as Chandler walked to her bed so she could lifelessly fall onto it, face-first. Once Duke successfully managed to fan the cigarette smell out the window (for now), she dropped her bag and shoes and came to sit at the foot of Heather’s bed.

“When’d you buy those clothes?” she heard Chandler say, her voice muffled by blankets. Hard to say which ones - there were so many on her bed and all of them were scrunched up as though she’d been holding them all at once in a tight ball.

“The weekend,” she said. “Care to give me constructive criticism?” She crawled along the bed and grabbed Heather by the arm, pulling her back up into a sitting position with all her strength. “I imagine you miss doing that.” She brushed some tangled locks out of Chandler’s face, and it was then did Duke see the terribly dead eyes looking right back at her. Were her eyes even blue anymore?

“You look great,” she said, tone completely void of emotion, before she attempted to fall back onto the mattress, only to be stopped by Duke catching her and pushing her backwards. Unfortunately, that just ended up in Chandler falling onto her back instead.

“Why are you here?” Chandler grumbled, curling in on herself and rolling onto her side, away from Duke.

“Because you’ve never been through a breakup before, and I knew you’d be a total mess,” Duke replied.

“I’ve been through plenty of breakups.”

“Okay, reword, then. You’ve never been dumped.”

Chandler fell silent.

“Heather, look at me.”

“No.”

“Heather, when was the last time you went outside?”

“I’m grounded.”

“From your back garden?”

No reply.

“Heather, you are not helping yourself.”

Slowly, Chandler picked herself up, though she still didn’t look at Heather.

“I’m past the point of caring,” Chandler said in a hoarse voice. “There’s only so many tears I can cry, and only so many headaches from dehydration I can take.” She finally turned around and faced Duke, nothing but sadness and emptiness radiating from her. “Now I’m just thinking, what the hell is the point? I fucked up one of the few relationships I actually cared about, and then fucked up my relationship with my closest friend as a result.” Her shoulders slumped and she stared at her lap. “I don’t know where to go from here, Heather. Veronica will never forgive me, and Mac won’t talk to me until I make things up with Veronica, probably.”

Duke sighed, slipping off the bed and walking over to Heather’s vanity as she continued to talk, trying to figure out where everything’s placement was - for someone who clearly wasn’t using makeup for the past few days, she certainly knew how to mix everything up into unorganised, messy categories.

“Why did all of this have to happen? Did I do something wrong?” Heather continued to lament from behind her as Duke rummaged through her draws, looking for one specific item. “How will they ever forgive me? I don’t know how to make things go back to normal.”

Duke finally found Chandler’s hairbrush. It was on the floor under her vanity the whole time.

“With every other time I fucked something up with you guys, I was able to promise that I’d be better. But now I feel like I’ve caused more damage than I can fix, so what the hell do I do?”

“Heather?”

“What?”

Duke sat just behind her on her knees, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry for what I’m about to do.”

“What are you- _OW!_ ”

Duke cringed as she heard the shredding of her hairbrush sound as she dragged the bristles through the tattered ginger mess in front of her. One glance at the brush, and already she’d pulled out three clumps of hair.

“Heather!” Chandler whined, rubbing her scalp. “Don’t- _Heather!_ ”

Another brush stroke, just as grating as the last. Duke ignored Chandler’s complaints as she continued to brush, not stopping until she was able to smoothly run the brush through her hair with little trouble. No doubt Chandler’s scalp burned, with how much hair she’d pulled out, but she’d thank her later.

“Did you _have_ to do that?” Chandler pulled away as soon as Duke placed the brush on the nightstand, running her fingers through her scalp to try and soothe the pain, resting her back against the headboard. Duke came and sat next to her.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if I left it any longer, it would have been even more painful.”

Chandler turned to her with a deadpan look.

“What is that, a metaphor?”

“No, that’s literally what would have happened.” She shrugged. “But sure. A metaphor works too.”

Chandler groaned, hugging her knees and resting her head on them.

“I can’t fix this, Heather. Veronica isn’t going to forgive me,” she murmured. Duke let out an audible groan.

“Heather, stop feeling sorry for yourself!”

Chandler looked up at her.

“ _This_ is your problem, Heather. It’s just, _‘oh woe is me! I did a fuck up, guess I’ll just sit here and cry about not being forgiven straight away!_ Rather than actually trying to think about what it was that you did wrong, and how you should be working up to fix that!”

Chandler stared at her bitterly. “What the fuck am I _meant_ to be doing, Heather?”

“I don’t know! Just not _this!_ ” She gestured to the mess that was her room, and the mess that was _her._ “Feel sad about it all you want, but if you’re going to sit here and complain to me about wanting things to change, you’re better off asking me how to clear up your mess rather than just letting it get bigger and bigger.”

“But-”

“You’re acting like you’re the only one who got hurt, when the reason why everyone’s so mad at you is because _they_ got hurt by _you._ Do you expect them to pity you because you slipped up on stage?”

Chandler looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. Duke pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Heather, you can’t punch someone in the face because you’re having a bad day, then expect them to turn around and give you a free therapy session. They’re just going to get pissed at you for you using them as a punching bag!”

“I didn’t exactly want her to give me a therapy session, free or not.”

“I’m not referring to-” Duke failed to hold in a snicker. “Heather, I’m trying to give you a pep talk.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like letting the one person who’s talking to me into my room just so she can yell at me.”

Duke’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed.

“I didn’t come here to yell at you.” She, due to her newfound sense of boldness, she could only assume, cupped Chandler’s chin so she could hold her gaze. “I came to make you feel better, but I can’t possibly do that if you keep feeling sorry for yourself.” She noticed Heather had tensed under her touch, and so she let go. Luckily she held her head in place.

“I can’t help it,” Chandler muttered. “Veronica was the first one I opened up to about… everything… and she’s always been so understanding and helpful, but after all the shit went down on Wednesday, the first thing she said to me was ‘what’s your damage’, as if she doesn’t _know_ what my damage is!”

Duke sighed, managing to stop her from running her mouth even more by grabbing hold of her hands to get her attention.

“Let’s put it this way,” Duke said. “Not to get personal, but Heather, do you think that you should ask your parents if they have some sort of childhood trauma to figure out? Maybe then you can figure out why they treated you so poorly.”

“What? _No!_ ” Chandler snatched her hands back and looked at her with disgust. “Who cares what happened to them? They treated me like garbage.” She paused. “Oh.”

“You are no one’s responsibility but your own,” Duke said, before standing up. “But like I said, I didn’t come here to lecture you.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s all you’ve done so far,” she said, watching her as she walked back over to her bag. Duke first pulled out the school work she had convinced some nerds to do for her and placed it on the glass table, before pulling out two books.

“I didn’t mean to, it’s just hard when you complain all the time,” Duke said, making her way back over to the bed and taking a seat next to her. She dropped one of the books on her lap, and she was given a dumbfounded look in return. “As much as I’m against wallowing in pity, I see no issue with forgetting all of your problems for a bit. You have two weeks all to yourself, you have a lot of time to kill. I don’t think it’s a great idea to spend all that time getting lost in your own thoughts, especially when most of them will be bad.”

Chandler looked down at the book skeptically.

“I don’t know how well I can read things right now,” she grumbled, attempting to push the book back to her. “I’ve been really out of focus lately.”

Duke pushed the book back and held it there.

“You don’t have to read that far. Just read it enough so that you’re distracted, even if you end up reading one page in an hour.” She gazed at her meaningfully. “I know it won’t fix anything, but if all you can do in the meantime is take your mind off of everything, then I suggest you do it.”

Chandler looked at the book again, this time thoughtfully.

“I haven’t read _Pride and Prejudice_ in a while.”

“Sorry it’s nothing exciting.”

Chandler, for the first time that day, let out the slightest of chuckles. “It’s one of my favourites.”

“I know, that’s why I picked it up.”

Hesitantly, Chandler opened the book up onto the first page, and Duke did the same with her own copy of _Moby Dick._ They sat in a somewhat comfortable silence for maybe a minute or two, before Heather spoke up again.

“How’s school?”

Duke looked up from her book.

“You sound like an aunt trying to talk to their niece they haven’t spoken to in ten years.”

“I… just figured I should ask,” Chandler muttered, still staring at her book, though her eyes weren’t moving along with the words. “I’ve been going on about myself this whole time, I didn’t bother thinking how school must be for you right now.”

Duke let out a solemn sigh.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

Chandler shifted uncomfortably, grimacing as she slowly nodded.

“It’s pretty fucking great.”

Chandler blinked, looking at her with surprise.

“What?”

“Well, I’m only on day one of being out of my sulkfest, but yeah, today went _way_ better than I expected it would. For one, I got a bunch of nerds to do your schoolwork for you.” She nodded to the papers on the table. “So you won’t be missing out on any classes you miss for the next two weeks. Oh! And there was this guy who was making fun of me, so I pulled him and gave him a hard-on in front of everyone.” She laughed at the memory. “Poor guy thought he did something by calling me a guy. Turns out it’s either I’m a girl, or he just outed himself as gay to everyone.”

Chandler stared at her in bewilderment.

“ _You_ pulled someone? Just to do _that?_ ”

“What? I’ve told you about how I’ve bitten people’s dicks before.”

“Yeah, but… I mean, that’s kind of different. You never do anything in public.”

“Well, no, and making out with him certainly wasn’t pleasant. But it was definitely worth it.” She grinned smugly. “Veronica thought it was pretty great. She actually said it was kinda hot.”

Duke then cringed when she realised what she’d just said made Chandler shrink into her shoulders, sliding down the headboard a little until she was level with Duke height-wise.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Chandler muttered, staring at her book. They fell back into a slightly more uncomfortable silence for a little while, and perhaps it would have gotten more comfortable if Duke wasn’t so aware of the fact that Chandler’s eyes kept on flickering over to her. She figured that maybe her attention span was really that bad, but usually when that happened she would be looking around the room, rather than only at either her or the book. Still, Duke didn’t pry, letting herself get lost in the book she’d read so many times before and could write pages and pages about.

“Heather?”

Duke glanced at Chandler.

“Yes?”

“Why did you come here?”

She raised a brow at her. “Didn’t I answer this already?”

“No, I mean…” Chandler kept her head down. “Don’t you blame me? I didn’t think you’d want to be around me.”

Duke sighed.

“No, Heather, I don’t blame you.”

“But-”

“You’re responsible for you, I’m responsible for me,” she told her. “You didn’t out me as trans - you didn’t even know I was trans. I outed myself. It isn’t your fault.”

Chandler’s brow furrowed. “But even so, is there a reason you wanted to… stick by me?”

Duke scoffed at her. “Do I need a reason to check if you’re okay?”

Chandler shrugged. “No, but if there is one, I’d like to hear it.”

Duke pursed her lips together as she tried to come up with a good reply. It was hard to really articulate how she felt about Heather these days; lately she’d been such a joy to be around, even when she wasn’t in the best of moods. It had been a long time since she’d seen her walls come down, and when they had, it had felt as though a wall made from brambles and dead bark had collapsed to reveal a beautiful, and yet still mysterious forest that she had yet to explore. The same forest she thought she’d known already and had memorised every tree and blade of grass, but as it turns out, there was a lot more to see.

So to see the leaves in the forest she was still trying to explore suddenly die was… disappointing? Disheartening?

“I want you to be okay,” was a better way of putting it.

She expected Heather to gag at how sentimental that was, so to have her fall onto her shoulder and curl up against her was a surprise to her. A fairly pleasant one, but still a surprise.

“Are you crying?” she asked. Chandler shook her head, just slipped her arm under Duke’s and settled the book on both of their laps, like it was a bridge.

“Thank you, Heather,” she heard her murmur. Her face wasn’t visible from that angle, but Duke hoped that it was content in some way, to match her voice that finally sounded calm. She wasn’t sure how she was able to give her any form of peace just by being here, but she was happy to have the ability, and in hopes that she could offer her more of the same feeling, she hooked an arm around her to keep her close. At first, Heather tensed, but she was quick to lean into it, sliding down so her head rested on her chest.

After some more silence, Duke realised that Chandler hadn’t turned the page to her book once.

“You’re not actually reading, are you?”

“I can’t focus on it,” Chandler confessed. Letting out a sigh, Duke closed her own book and grabbed Chandler’s. She shifted their positions a little so they were both lying down, Chandler still on her chest and cradled by her arm. Her hair covered some of her view of the book, but whatever, she could just lift it up.

“ _It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> EPIC FUNKY LITTLE TRANS ACE LESBIAN IS THRIVING !!!!
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


End file.
